by Jeff Beeman
“Frank, you better not tick her off because that dog will eat you before you know it” advised Mr. Oliver.
“This is insane!” Mr. Nguyen coolly rebuffed and then left by the front door.
Mr. Anderson said to no one in particular that Mr. Nguyen’s parents weren’t married when he was born.
Sergeant Kasprzak had a mildly amused look on her face, though her eyes still looked heavy with sleep. “Corporal, you will be on this mission for your expertise on what items will be needed. Dean I could use you to drive us to her base and then to the animal hospital and watch over her, while I watch over the corporals”.
Mr. Anderson looked unhappy about things but began to agree when a husky female voice sounded up from behind me, “I will protect the chica valiente”
I turned my head to find Officer Salazar looking directly at me. Instead of the darkness behind her eyes, this time there was something different. Almost like a mother look but not quite.
“Excellent” stated Sergeant Kasprzak, “So little sis, what is your name?”
I turned and looked at the Sergeant but could not make myself say my name. After a moment she more authoritatively asked, “Well, you have a name, don’t you. Now say it”.
Mr. Oliver came to my rescue by asking me, “I saw Girl Scout stuff in your backpack. Were you a Girl Scout once?”
“I am a Girl Scout” I answered with pride.
“Well Sarge, her Girl Scout training is the closest we have to any type of basic training. We could call her Buck Private or just Buckie with an ie at the end since she is a girl.”
I quickly shot my best smile at Mr. Oliver and then turned to those still in the room and announced, “You can call me Buckie!”
Chapter Fifteen
A Ride on a Sunny Day
Does being shock or being dumbfounded have the same meaning? If they do have the same meaning, can you feel twice the effect if what causes that feeling is great enough? Since I didn’t have a dictionary book or the internet to check, I am going to go with this statement, I was shocked and dumbfounded when all the adults pulled out working smart phones. Sure there was electricity from the truck but what good is a cell phone if you can’t call someone? There have been times when my mouth working on its own has gotten me in trouble but in situations like this, it gets tired of waiting for my brain to figure something out, so it gets to the point and hopes the brain can catch back up.
“Do those really work?” I hear myself ask.
“The clocks and compass still work as long as we keep them charged. In theory, if we get in an area with a working and powered cell tower, we can make calls as long as we are in the tower’s range.” Absent-mindedly responded Mr. Oliver, all the time the adults waited on the Sergeant to go over the mission timeline and what was items would be needed for this run.
I just blinked once and responded with, “Oh” as my brain processed this.
Daddy had a simple cell phone only so the hospital could call him in emergencies about Momma or my Godfather could call on those rare occasions that he needed Daddy to know something immediately. Daddy preferred to use our home phone that used a land line. Daddy would say jokingly but also with a bit of pride that he was still enough of a “Luddite” not to let technology spoil him and ease him into forgetting how to do things without it.
So the plan as I understand it is to go to the base, get the book to see what we will need to make at least the antibiotics, then go to the animal hospital to get not only the chemicals, compounding equipment but also additional equipment that can be used to do the test needed to see if the two men have the Vegas Virus, plus anything else that can be used to keep the person or persons from catching the virus while treating the sick.
Now that we have a plan, it was time to get our stuff gathered up. I need to go back upstairs to get my utility belt and my backpack. As I head towards the stairs, B.B. moves ahead so that he can block me from going up. I scratch his ear and nicely ask him to move but he just stands there barely fitting sideways on the first step. I next try to get him to move by calling him and sweet talking to him. He still won’t budge but his happy wagging broom handle thick tail beats so hard on one of the support for the stairs handrail, he raises a cloud of dust all the way to the top. I next try to work around him but he won’t have any of that and easily blocks my attempt.
Finally, Mr. Oliver comes over and asks, “B.B. playing at being a toll keeper?”
As I ponder my next move, I reply “He is being stubborn and won’t let me past.”
“How about I go fetch what you want?”
“Okay but don’t feel bad if he won’t move for you. I want my backpack and utility belt.”
“You mean the big belt with your knife?”
“Yes, please and thank you.”
As easily as they say Moses parted the Red Sea, B.B. moves to let Mr. Oliver head up the stairs but when I move to follow, I am pushed back by B.B.’s nose.
After a bit, Mr. Oliver came down with the items I had asked for. When I move back towards the living room proper, B.B. happily trots along with me.
“Here you go Buckie” says Mr. Oliver with a humorous look on his face.
“Thank you“, I responded as I give B.B. what some call the “Hairy Eyeball” but it was lost on him, oh well.
I emptied out my backpack next to the fireplace so it would not be in anyone’s immediate way. I need the space to hold the large compounding book. Now how do I put on a belt without both my hands, I think to myself.
As if she had read my mind from the other room, Mrs. Kevin-Stahls re-enters the room and is holding my new harness. I can see that she has been crying. I feel bad because she is such a kind and loving mother and friend. Quietly she comes over but doesn’t say anything. I feel I should say something but all I can say is, “I’m sorry but I have to go with them. They need the book and B.B. if they hope to be successful and safe.” She reluctantly nods but I can tell her heart isn’t in it. Carefully she takes off my old harness and then puts on the new one, all the time in silence. It fits even better than before. I look into her face and say, “This is wonderful” and smile. She nods again but this time her lower lip starts to tremble and tears start to form. Quickly she turns and runs out of the living room.
I fight back my own tears and just stand there unable to think what to do next.
Eventually I heard talking again in the kitchen. At the same time, Mr. Kevins comes into the room.
He looks at me just standing there with my belt in my hand. Without comment, he comes over and helps put on my belt for me. In a small voice I am only able to say, “I’m sorry” before I dare not talk anymore. Mr. Kevins kneels down and hugs me. Speaking softly so only I can hear him, “It’s all right. Amanda is just frightened for you and Michael. Even though she doesn’t like it, she understands you have to go. You’ve done nothing wrong and shouldn’t let yourself become distracted. Focus on what is needed and come back to us, will you do that?” I shake my head yes and we hug again. I ask him to put Bouncy Bouncy in his travelling chair, which he does. Then he moves Papa’s knife to where I can bring it out easier with my left hand. With that done, we all head to the kitchen. The others who were going on the mission have surrounded the round table as they all look at a map.
Mr. Anderson comments as he looks at the map, “We can go west on Cummings to” but before he can continue both Mr. Oliver and I say “No” at the same time. I am sure his reason was the same as mine, we didn’t want to see the hanging semi again.
The others kind of look at us funny for a moment before Mr. Anderson suggests we can go south on Forest Drive until we come to Harwood. There we can go west on till Central. Neither of us object to that.
With the route decided, gear packed, and the plan made, we are ready to go. We head out the glass sliding door and towards the large garage. Mr. Anderson opens the regular sized door on the front and we all went in to a totally empty garage. No one other than myself seemed to find this strange, so fo
r the moment, I “go with the herd”. Everyone heads to the back wall as if there is another door which there isn’t except I am wrong. Mr. Oliver walks ahead of the rest of us so he can pull out and slide something over which opens up a four foot wide by three foot high section of the wall. Everyone makes their way through it, though it took Mr. Anderson a bit longer due to his size. We end up in the back yard of the house behind where we are staying. Mr. Oliver waits till all of us have made it through not only the hole in the garage wall but fence also. While the rest continues on, I watch Mr. Oliver replace the missing section of fence and wall that also conceals the garage hole. Looking at me, he smiles and says, “We call this type of entry way a “Mouse hole”. You use them to move about while keeping yourself protected or hidden from your enemy. Since we didn’t want anyone to know exactly where we are, we parked the functioning vehicles at different locations.” I smile back as I think of all the cartoons I’d seen that had the mouse use the same tactic.
We join up with the rest and work our way down the street as it curves. Mr. Anderson leads us to a house with a driveway that goes to the back. It is here that the truck has been hidden, the one that brought B.B., Bouncy Bouncy, and me to the rest of the group. B.B. without pause jumps up into the bed of the truck and waits for me to join him. I begin working my way back there when Sergeant Kasprzak asks me to join them in the front. She even opens the door for me before I can warn her. The change in her facial expression tells me that they didn’t fully clean up after B.B. had his vengeance. All I can do is look sympathetic and say, “Thank you but I think it is best if I keep B.B. out of there so he will not make another mess.” Mr. Oliver has his back to the cab and is barely keeping it together. Officer Salazar raises an eyebrow to him but soon understands the situation when Mr. Anderson exclaims that my less than Godly dog relieved himself in the even less Godly cab. It is decided that since the weather is so nice, the door windows will be left down and the back window panels left open. Some of the cab smell reaches those of us in the bed. Needless for me to say but it was most definitely B.B. stink and reminds me of the Base.
I am positioned next to the sliding back window so I can give instructions on how to get the Base once we get to Central. Mr. Oliver is sitting on his haunches and is staying near the cab opposite of me. Officer Salazar moves closer to the tailgate in a relaxed position, though her eyes are always searching the view. B.B. is happily moving from left and right between us. Without problems, Mr. Anderson backs us up a bit, then heads out onto the street and away we go.
“Hey Eric” calls out Mr. Oliver.
“Yes, sir”
“This is going to be a good example of what I have been telling you two no-beards, especially Tony, you should thank your lucky stars that you have a Viking with you!”
Mr. Oliver chuckles before responding, “I more hope my lucky stars keep me from needing a Viking, but I proud to have one with us!” This causes Mr. Anderson to laugh heartily, while both the Sergeant and Officer Salazar to roll their eyes.
It feels funny to have the wind blowing through my shorter and far less knotted hair. It is still long enough to be just at shoulder length so it occasionally whips about. As we get onto Forest Drive, Mr. Oliver starts smelling the air sort of like B.B. After a bit, he asks if I am wearing perfume. I giggle at such a silly thought and say, “No, Mrs. Kevins-Stahls washed my hair with scented strawberry shampoo earlier today. The shampoo I use whenever I have a chance to wash my hair is unscented. It is the only kind I guess Daddy could find at the time”.
He nodded and replied “I had forgotten what scented shampoo smelt like, it is nice, though but thanks to old B.B.’s added odor, it sort of smells like a strawberry field that just had a fresh layer of manure fertilizer laid down”. I wrinkle at the thought then laugh.
Riding in the vehicle makes the trip go so much faster. I keep forgetting that what takes so much time on foot, takes no time in the truck. We are already at where Forest Drive meets up with Harwood. We take a right and start this part of the trip. We pass the large Catholic Church and two smaller churches, one of which is a Lutheran church on the right. Officer Salazar crosses herself like I have seen my Godfather do before though never when we passed a Catholic Church. As we get closer to the underpass we will need to pass, Mr. Anderson has to slow down to maneuver around an old multi car wreck. This is also where I see, to our left, a building I was familiar with that is part of a small strip shopping area. Most of the big glass windows are shattered but there is one that still has one window in tac with three superhero emblems boldly showing. Mr. Oliver moves closer to me and points to the window. Painted brazenly over the store’s business name is the strange flag picture. It looks as always sort of like the Texas flag but the colors are wrong, they are instead of red, white, blue and having a big star, this flag’s colors are green, white, red and has some type of squiggly in the green area where the star would be.
“Do you know what that is about with the one window?” wondered Mr. Oliver.
“It is where all of us got our comic books. Daddy, my uncle, Godfather, Momma and I all got our comics there. Daddy, Uncle Mike and my Godfather know a lot about old comic books and would tell me all about them. My Godfather knew the most while Daddy knew more about manga.” I say with a wisp of sadness.
“I liked baseball cards myself” said Mr. Oliver before asking Officer Salazar, “I have been seeing that alternative form of Texas flag painted in different spots around here. Do you know what it means, Isabel?”
Moving to a position so she could comfortably look at the store sign, she immediately replys, “It is the gang sign for Hijos Verdaderos de Texas. A Chicano gang who used to mix it up with some of the Asian street gangs in Euless and the larger one in Arlington.”
“My Spanish is about as rusty as a hundred year old barbwire fence, so what does Hijos Verdaderos de Texas mean?”
“True Sons of Texas” she replies with undisguised contempt in her husky voice. Their colors are what you see on the sign. They wanted to make Texas part of Mexico if not physically, then at least culturally. They had started becoming a big problem as they were just getting into heavy drug sales, protection, slave and weapon trafficking when the world rolled Box Cars.”
“It what?” I blurt out
“What you have been calling “The Bad”. Since the virus was called the Vegas Virus, different names for the day things went “Bad” were used when there was still a lot of civilian communication. Other names were like “Being entered into the Black Book”, “Gone Cold”, “Deuce Day”, “Drop Day” and my favorite hit of all, “Steaming Fish Day”.”
All this time Mr. Anderson worked us around the wreck until we are able to get back up to speed. I think “The Bad” is all that was necessary to call all the events that happened up till now, so that is what I plan to stick with.
We ride in silence except when I have to give a couple of directions to get to the Base. When we finally arrive in the parking lot, B.B. is so excited to be home, that as soon as the truck has stopped, he jumps over Officer Salazar to get out of the truck bed, goes straight to one of the small trees growing in the parking lot and you probably have already figured out where this is going so I will just switch to what I was doing at the same time.
Officer Salazar and Mr. Oliver help me off the bed of the truck. We then head to my entrance while B.B. happily trots here and there all the time making sure his claim on the parking lot is marked again.
“So this is where you normally stay?” asks Mr. Oliver.
“Our base is on the fifth floor” I respond. “The other ways in have been booby trapped and would take a lot longer to go up. Our entrance is concealed so I didn’t set up traps that way. Would you mind helping with B.B.? If he gets a whiff of Jingles, he is going to get all aggravated and not want to behave”.
In unison both Mr. Oliver and Officer Salazar ask, “Who is Jingles?”
“He is an un-person statue who jingles his keys as he watches a dead wal
l clock. I didn’t name him though, I am not supposed to name them but I have to call him something, though if I think back on it, who was I going to tell him about? Any way, he never gives me a problem since a moaner never is around. Because B.B. wouldn’t go up to the base because of Jingles, I and Bouncy Bouncy moved him into a closet. Sometimes I would listen to the closet door. He had quit jingling his keys so maybe he is at peace finally.”
Officer Salazar simply says “We will put him down”
Such a simple thing that should be done yet I feel sad for Jingles. “Please don’t, he is safe in the closet and might be useful one day.” I blurt out.
I deserve the looks I got for that statement, let me be the first to admit. Darn mouth.
“Buckie, he will never be at peace until he is released from his condition. You yourself said that he has not caused harm since a Boss hasn’t been near, but should one call out, he will be forced to obey and kill others if he can. Let me help him pass on. I promise chica valiente, I will be quick and merciful.”, explained Officer Salazar, her husky voice soft and motherly. The darkness was totally gone from her face. Instead it seemed understanding, sympathetic and kind. After a moment of thinking about what she said, I slowly nod yes.
I began to lead them to the closet Jingles is in, but half way there, B.B. stops trotting and begins his low throat growl. We stop and Mr. Oliver asks, “Buckie can you just tell Isabel where he is, then you, B.B. and I can go up to your base.”
I point and explain to Officer Salazar where to go. She gently touches my cheek and says, “I will pray for his soul before I release him from this world. You have my word!” I look up into her eyes and I have no doubt that she will keep her word. I ask her to say good bye for me and she says she will. Mr. Oliver and Officer Salazar look at each other for a moment. She nods to him and then looks at me.
I turn quickly away and head to the secret entrance with B.B. and Mr. Oliver following. All the time I hold onto Bouncy Bouncy’s “hand” and try not to cry.
